


An Unexpected Charge

by Gaqalesqua



Series: Dragon Age Fanfiction [6]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Fingering, Roleplay, Size Kink, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-12
Updated: 2015-10-12
Packaged: 2018-04-25 23:41:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4981300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gaqalesqua/pseuds/Gaqalesqua
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Offering ‘anything’ in return for her life being spared didn’t pan out how she’d expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Unexpected Charge

The axe was cold against her neck, and her breathing heavy. Rain had fallen during the fight, splattering her body in wet drops, but the weather had abated into something friendlier at the moment she had been knocked down. It was a huge axe, and he carried it in two grey arms that were both thicker than her legs.

“I don’t usually go for that any last words crap, but if you want to pray to your god, do it,” he chuckled, voice muffled behind the heavy helmet he wore. “Why not?”

“Don’t kill me,” she pleaded, trying to edge away from the weapon.

“Why not? You and your boys fell on me ‘cause you wanted to. You think I’m dumb enough to just let you go?”

“I’ll do anything,” she said. “Anything. Please.”

“Anything?” he asked.

“Yes,” she confirmed.

In hindsight she should have expected it, but the axe was removed and she was hauled to her feet, across the wet grass and towards a hut. He almost dwarfed it, barely fitting through the door before he slammed it shut behind him and grabbed her daggers out of her hands. She was pushed back against the table, his hand squarely on her chest.

He was a mountain of muscle, skin the colour of the skies outside, and water, mixed with sweat, dripped down his chest, catching the faint torchlight inside the shack. His scars were outlined starkly in white, and she wondered if her blades had even scratched the tough hide.

“You said anything, so I’m going with what I want,” he told her. “Lucky for you, I’m a nice guy, so I’ll make sure this doesn’t hurt.”

“What?” she asked faintly, and then her head was pressed against the table and he was throwing open her coat, untying the sash around her waist and slipping it out from underneath her. He paused at her boots, almost purring.

“Thigh-high,” he growled. “Makes it hard to want to peel these off.”

But peel them off he did, grabbing her trousers in a vice-like grip and almost tearing them from her. What covered her modesty was little more than a metal-wired cropped shirt and one flimsy pair of smallclothes, and when they were gone her charming acquitter stared down at her from behind a huge metal helmet and set her skin tingling. Then his hands were at her breasts, thumbing her nipples and rubbing at the soft skin. Little sighs left her mouth, and he slid one huge, thick finger between her lips to stifle the sounds.

“You want the damned Storm Coast to come running?” he demanded.

“It feels good,” she breathed in protest. Had she been able to see past the helmet she would have watched his lips quirk in self-satisfied mirth.

“It’s about to feel a whole lot better.”

Eight nails dragged lightly down her body, and he planted one large, heavy hand on her mound as another slid between her legs, brushing gently over the firm, erect bud beneath his left hand. She started noisily, whimpering as he slid the huge digit against the sensitive nub. He didn’t show much mercy, speeding up moments after his hands met her. Her legs shook, chest heaving as her breath increased. He had a skill she wouldn’t have thought from such a person, the knowledge of where to press and when to stroke, and her body writhed beneath his touch. Soon, slick sounds were coming from between her thighs, and he slid one thick finger within her and listened to the choked gasp that came from her mouth.

Her lips trembled, short cries falling from them as he worked his finger in and out of her, sliding in another and stretching her somewhat. She groaned slightly and he moved them, digits swirling and flicking within her, catching spots that sent white behind her eyes. When she came, he didn’t stop, winding her into oblivion and then back down again slowly. His fingers retreated, and he grasped his belts, opening the huge, strange trousers he wore. She looked away as he exposed himself, and then something large, soft and velvety pressed itself against her slit. She swore, wriggling as he began to slowly push inside.

He hilted within her and she wanted to scream, with gentle pain, with pleasure, with frustration. His fingers found her throat, forgoing pressure to skim a thumb over her chin as his hips thrust rhythmically into her, a wet, erotic sound filling the air, generated by their coupling. He was burning hot, she bit his thumb when he slid it into her mouth, the tough skin on his hand barely yielding to the pressure of her teeth as warmth blossomed between her legs. He seemed to like how she whimpered with each thrust, and he gathered her ass in his hands, rubbing his fingers into the soft flesh as he pulled her flush against him.

She hadn’t considered this when she’d offered ‘anything’, but as ecstasy burnt her, sweat spreading across her rain-soaked skin and joining with the red flush, she was glad it counted. He felt good, thick and burning within her, full of finesse yet totally without mercy. Each thrust sent a shockwave of delight up her spine and bloomed new pleasure within her. Her next orgasm nearly tore her apart, and she screamed unreservedly at the sensation. The Qunari didn’t bother covering her mouth, he just pinned her to the table, and fucked the shit out of her.

 

* * *

 

 

“We good, boss?” he asked about an hour later, as a messy, squirming Amelia Trevelyan lay beneath him on the wooden table in some shack on the Storm Coast. She gazed up at him with a glazed expression, body heaving for breath.

“Maker,” she managed breathlessly. “Again.”

**Author's Note:**

> Because you KNOW Bull would want to fuck a woman in thigh-high boots.


End file.
